Hannah's Hope: Seeking God's Heart in the Midst of Infertility, Miscarriage, and Adoption Loss

introduction

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

PSALM 23:1-4

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

ROBERT FROST

Allow me to introduce you to my dear friend Hannah, whom I’ve never met. How did I come to call Hannah my friend without even meeting her? She is my companion because we share a common heartbeat. Hannah’s heart pounded with a mother’s love long before she was blessed with a child to mother. Through the years of waiting and longing, her gentle heart was nearly crushed under the weight of grief. Find her story recorded in 1 Samuel 1–2.

In today’s terminology, we would say that Hannah was either infertile (unable to conceive within one year of regular marital relations without the use of birth control, or unable to carry a child to live birth) or sterile (permanently unable to produce the genetic materials required to conceive a child). By simply describing Hannah as barren, the Bible does not give us many specific details about her medical condition. What we do know is that Hannah suffered heartache, anguish, and grief because of her empty arms. Are you a Hannah too?

If motherhood is your goal and you are disillusioned in trying to reach this destination, keep reading! This book is written for every family that longs for a child yet-to-be-conceived, that grieves for a baby too-soon-passed from the womb into heaven, or that has lived through the no-man’s-land of failed adoption. It is intended as a guide to assist you in decisions as you struggle through grief. By the end of this journey, God may surprise you by the methods He uses to answer your heart’s cry.

Or perhaps you are a Burden Bearer for a loved one on such an Odyssey. If you are a pastor, friend, or family member who desires to help someone else through this valley, I offer my most sincere gratitude for your compassion, and I will offer suggestions to you.

When yearning for motherhood, years become measured in months and cycles. Of the first eleven years of my marriage (that’s over 140 chances for pregnancy if counting twenty-eight-day cycles), more than ten years were spent actively striving to grow our family. If my husband, Rick, and I weren’t aggressively trying to conceive or longingly seeking to adopt, we were anxiously praying to sustain troubled pregnancies and grieving our many losses along the way. What a long, weary journey it has been.

I must admit to finishing this book from the other side of the infertility expedition, now with two living blessings to fill our lives with all the laughter, dirty fingerprints, scattered toys, and bedtime hugs we so longed for. But before you stop reading and walk away, feeling me to be disqualified to address this tender topic, please know that this book has been actively in the writing process for many years.

Much of what I share on these pages is pulled directly from my private journals, recording all the anger, grief, longing, isolation, questions, struggles, tears, sorrows — and even joy — relief, excitement, and answered prayers along the way.

While we are now parents, it was a life-altering battle that led us here. Hormonal imbalances, reproductive abnormalities, immune system dysfunction, and the desire for a larger family remain our realities. As founder of a ministry called Hannah’s Prayer, I have learned much from thousands of amazing families who have trusted me with their pain as they have grieved for children. Am I qualified to guide you on this exploration of Hannah’s heart? I pray that you will find it to be so.

While it was indeed a road less traveled, this winding way of childlessness was one I did not choose to tread. I often limped along this uphill trail, kicking and fighting my way through the dense underbrush of discouragement. But through the journey, God provided green pastures where my aching soul could draw comfort from the recognition that my loving heavenly Father approved the course before allowing me to take my first step.

When I first met Hannah, I defined myself exclusively as infertile, leading a barren life, without hope. With my course on this less-frequented path plotted against my will, there was one fork in the road that did require my decision: Would I choose bitterness and self-destruction, or growth and renewed hope? The seemingly easier path was anger with God, but I needed to choose the trail that would truly make all the difference. In slowly finding kinship with Hannah, I have realized that my fertility challenges need not destroy me. Intense anger and bitterness have been replaced by a peace that comes only from God.

I want to bring the historical account of Hannah’s life alive for you, as it has been for me. Each chapter begins with a brief fictionalized look at a portion of Hannah’s story. I’ve taken the liberty of imagining some of the details of Hannah’s infertility journey, basing them on the historical context in which she lived and on my own experience with barrenness. While reflecting on Hannah’s heart I will also share pieces of my story, along with the stories of other families facing fertility challenges.

Through all of this I’ve found that, when I shift my focus from my human inabilities and infertility and seek God’s strength to surmount fertility challenges according to His guidance, hope is rekindled. In getting to know this woman of old, I pray that the reflections of Hannah’s heart will direct you to the Source of her strength, whose name is the God of All Comfort.

prologue

my story

Since early childhood, I had imagined I would grow up to raise eight kids! Our August 1992 wedding was quickly followed by the active pursuit of parenthood. By then, Rick and I dreamed of at least four, through birth, adoption, or both, however God might provide.

In April 1994, we hadn’t become pregnant yet, but received our first serious adoption lead. For thirty-six joyful hours we prepared our hearts and home for the preschool-aged son and daughter we believed could soon be joining us. But God had another family planned for these children, and we had to let them go.

After two years of medical fertility assistance, we stepped back from treatments in October of 1994, having exhausted our insurance, finances, and emotional reserves. We refocused our energies and began forming Hannah’s Prayer Ministries, a Christian infertility support network. Though I rarely ovulated even on fertility drugs, my body experienced a rebound reaction to the cessation of monthly rounds of Clomid. To our surprise, we conceived our first biological child in early December. Noel was miscarried December 26/27.

God brought many adoption possibilities into our lives over the following years. Sometimes we easily saw that leads wouldn’t work out. But we believed parenthood to be imminent with each of five more children, only to reap shattered hope and empty arms at the end of each encounter.

A young woman with a history of past abortions was able to carry her baby to live birth in 1995 because she knew adoption was an option. Just weeks before birth, we learned of her ultimate decision to parent her daughter.

In 1996, God called us to a painful season of supporting a friend through a pregnancy that would eventually allow her to place her son in the arms of another family. After the emotional drain of that experience, we stepped back from any adoption attempts for the next couple years.

We dabbled in fertility treatments again, but didn’t have the financial resources to pursue the aggressive treatments doctors recommended. By now several medical conditions that inhibited our fertility were also significantly impacting my overall health. I underwent my first surgery for endometriosis (where we discovered my uterine deformity, a bicornate or heart-shaped uterus that can cause pregnancy complications and loss). About this time, I also found a doctor who was willing to prescribe groundbreaking medication to address my PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), failure to ovulate, acne, excess weight gain, and overall health decline, by dealing with underlying issues of insulin resistance.

In January of 1999, we learned of a young mother in the next state, in labor at that very moment, wanting to meet us. I had been ready to pursue adoption again for quite a while, but this was the first time Rick shared my desire after the scars of previous losses. Hope sprung as we packed our bags to meet our daughter. But the next phone call never came.

A few months later, a single woman I had previously supported through high-risk pregnancy and infant death called to explain that she was again pregnant and would like us to adopt her new baby. Soon thereafter she learned the baby was twins! As I’d prayed specifically for twins since I was only three years old, this seemed like a dream come true! Our dream shattered the moment her state’s social services brought to light her history of mental illness and ongoing adoption scams. She had never been pregnant, even when I had previously supported her during pregnancy complications and infant death. At the same time she was telling us we were the only family right for her children, she was leading along at least five other families in as many states.

I felt used, angry, hurt, lonely, and lost in a sea of grief. We had been praying to grow our family for six and a half years and faced the deaths (emotional or physical) of our first eight children!

Through a series of God-ordained circumstances, we headed into higher levels of fertility treatment and began injecting my body full of hormones. Three IUI cycles later, we received the phone call of our lives — a positive pregnancy test! While my initial hormone levels were excellent (even indicating the possibility of multiples), pregnancy got off to a rocky start with early bleeding and cramping. It was a bittersweet relief to find one, but only one, beautiful heartbeat on the ultrasound screen.

I struggled with severe morning sickness the entire pregnancy, only gaining a net total of six pounds. By the Lord’s exceeding grace, Joshua was born on December 22, 1999, full term and healthy, but weighing under five pounds. It took three more pregnancies before we learned the reason for his low birth weight was not due to my lack of weight gain, but caused by an immunity issue that, untreated, results in an 80-89 percent gestational mortality rate.

Since it had taken so long the first time, we didn’t take any break from trying to conceive after Joshua’s birth. This time it only took a year to conceive, using over-the-counter progesterone supplements but no other infertility interventions. However, Joel’s miscarriage began about three days after we realized I was pregnant. LPD (Luteal Phase Defect, a shortened post-ovulation phase of the monthly cycle and progesterone levels insufficient to sustain pregnancy) was the diagnosed cause of his death.

I started monthly prescription progesterone treatment and was shocked by another positive pregnancy test just three months later. This baby shared Joshua’s due date from two years prior, the exact timing I had hoped for between children! When bleeding started two days later, my progesterone dosage was increased, but not in time to save Hannah’s life.

More than a year passed without another conception, and the Lord began to soften our hearts toward adoption yet again. We felt led to investigate international adoption and were in the early stages of working with an agency to find a daughter in China. When other two-year-olds were watching Blue’s Clues and Thomas the Tank Engine, Joshua’s favorite was our orientation video with all the faces of children in Chinese orphanages.

In January 2002 I landed back in the operating room for what was expected to be a simple, forty-five-minute laparoscopy to remove mild endometriosis. Instead, during the three-and-a-half-hour procedure, my doctor found severe adhesions and asked Rick to allow him to remove a tube and ovary. Rick refused to make that decision without me, so I came out of anesthesia to learn that I would have to return to surgery within the next three to six months, probably three.

I now had less than a 5 percent chance of ever again conceiving. I received this startling news with uncommon peace. With at least three of our biological children in heaven rather than on earth, pregnancy was a fearful prospect. Though I grieved that I might never carry another child, it was a relief to think that the struggle and month-to-month wondering would soon be behind us. My heart was already in China, and I was willing for my body to be done with this long journey.

When I wasn’t feeling well a couple weeks before my next surgery date, I attributed it to my recent stop in progesterone supplementation. I took a pregnancy test on a whim and actually threw it away, thinking it defective, when a second line popped up! But God had done what doctors could not do. With only minor medical intervention, we were expecting the child who statistically should never have been conceived nor carried.

Early testing revealed my elevated IgM levels, the factor we now believe to have caused IUGR (inter-uterine growth retardation) for Joshua. I took blood thinners on a daily basis for the rest of the pregnancy, accompanied by monthly ultrasound growth checks. Pre-term contractions caught us by unhappy surprise in my twenty-fifth week. I was put on a combination of activity restrictions and bed rest for the next thirteen weeks, along with medication to arrest labor as the pregnancy progressed. Ruth weighed in at nearly six and a half pounds when she was born on January 25, 2003.

After twelve years and with two living children, is our family complete? We honestly don’t know. For the first time in our married lives, we are no longer actively seeking to grow our family, yet we are open to God’s will if His plan is otherwise. Expecting that childbearing will only grow continually harder for my body, we aren’t planning on any more biological children (but then, we weren’t expecting to conceive Ruth either). Adoption still holds a tender spot in our hearts, and we wonder if God may yet lead us back down this path sometime in the future.

chapter one

family ties

There was a certain man from Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph, an Ephraimite.

1 SAMUEL 1:1

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. . . . God saw all that he had made, and it was very good.

GENESIS 1:27, 31

"Hannah had been nervous to meet her betrothed, unsure of this man with whom she was to share her life. But her family had chosen well. To Hannah’s delight, Elkanah proved to be a godly man whom she was quickly learning to love.

A gentle blush crept over her face as she thought of the words of blessing confidently shouted by merrymakers on their recent wedding day: ‘May your descendants be like the sands on the seashore and the stars in the sky. May you be fruitful like Rachel and Leah, who together built up the house of Israel.’ Hannah dreamily pictured herself holding Elkanah’s son in her arms by the following year. And if not yet in her arms, then surely within her womb.

But that first year passed, then another, then yet another. Discouragement, grief, and fear silently stole away innocent hope. To avoid looks of pity, she lowered her eyes each time she entered the marketplace. But the whispers still reached her ears as she passed. In place of the glow of new love, Hannah’s cheeks now burned with shame at her seeming inability to carry on her husband’s name."

When are you two going to start a family? The innocent-sounding question seemed to cut a little deeper into my breaking heart each time it was asked. I knew this woman was simply trying to be sociable; yet rather than curiosity about when we might want to have kids, all I heard was condemnation that our marriage was not measuring up to her definition of family.

I wanted to answer that we started our family the day we took our wedding vows, becoming one in God’s sight. I wanted to tell her of our months and years of wanting and waiting. Why must our union be validated by the addition of children before we can be counted as a family? When God created Adam and Eve, He called this family of two very good long before they became parents, so why couldn’t I feel complete when facing these social settings?

I longed to tell her of our daughter — the one who had taken us two years to even conceive. Had Noel lived, I would have been several years a veteran of that cherished role of motherhood by now. I wanted to explain about the children who had each carried away pieces of our hearts when they did not join our family through adoption as we’d hoped.

Because I knew she was just making small talk, I chose not to allow